The Accidental Boss

The Accidental Boss

“Grab him, get him in the van, come on… hurry up, shut the bloody door.”

They held the man down in the back of a VW Camper-van and Phil said, 

“Stick the bag on his stupid head, hurry up, right let’s go. DRIVE.”

Phil was the brains of the outfit. Their job today was to kidnap a rival boss. The boss in question was the head of a British Italian crime family, The Zucchini’s. However, the person they kidnapped was not the head of The Zucchini’s, it was a bloke called Barry who was on his way to work. 

Phil and his team were guns for hire, called the Gulls, they were a team of criminals who would rob cash vans and steal ATMs. They would use JCB’s to pull the cash machines from the walls they were installed in and drive them to a lock-up. Once there they would open the ATM with a machine that looked like a huge hydraulic tin opener to access the money. Fortunately for them, they were better at theft than they were at kidnapping. 

Poor Barry was a simple man, he lived with his wife and his son, Doug. He had a job and his only vice in life was going to the pub after a tough shift, he was often heard saying, “the factory is my hobby, staying sober long enough to do it, is my job.”

If he was a colour, he would be beige. Barry wasn’t particularly adventurous or ambitious anymore and in the oddest of ways, this was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to him. He’d been to prison as a teenager, but his wife, son and colleagues knew nothing about it. He was just walking along a quiet road with his Pot Noodle in his pocket, minding his own business when a VW van pulled up and two men forced him into the side door. It was professionally conducted; quick, quiet and they were in and out of the area before anyone had noticed. Had it not been the wrong man they may have won a trophy at the next Gangster Awards, hosted by Danny Dyer (of course).

The van was uncomfortable and was tossing Barry around like a pair of shoes in a washing machine. The Gulls, comprised of four men with Phil their leader, he directed their every move. The driver was told to drop the parcel (Barry) off at an unused factory, where there would be someone from the rival family who would pay the Gulls for their work and take charge of the parcel. 

The rival family was known as the Van Dinos. They were from Amsterdam and were huge in the drug trafficking world. They wanted to take control of the Southeast drug supply and wanted to demolish their competitors. It was a business with high rewards for high risks. Not only did they have to protect themselves from rivals they also had the police to worry about. The courts were giving out long sentences to combat the war on drugs and firearms. Everyone involved in that world had friends who had been killed during the many conflicts, it was like kill or be killed.

Drugs was a dirty business to be involved in. They took control of communities, leaving a world of destruction. Shoplifting, burglaries, robberies, and prostitution all go through the roof as addicts will do anything for money once, they’re hooked on drugs. The addiction is enough for parents to choose drugs over their children. Needles lie dangerously in parks and debts result in beatings. Area become no go zones and good honest people are frightened.

Barry was lying face down in the old smelly camper van and with the hood on his face he had no idea where he was going, he just knew he wasn’t going to work. The Gulls were silent other than Phil, who was giving the driver some directions to the RV point, “turn left here, carry on over the roundabout, now turn right.” The vehicles engine sounded old and was spluttering along, Barry wondered what would happen if the van broke down, would he be able to escape or would his kidnappers just kill him. A lot of things went through his mind during that short drive, he was so confused and stunned by this violation.

The camper van eventually came to a halt and Phil got out to speak to the contact from the Van Dinos. Barry got dragged out of the camper van and handed over, the money was handed to the Gulls.

 Phil told Barry,

“Come on, move along. Now stand here and don’t even think about running.”

Phil got back into the van and the Gulls departed. Their job was completed with perfect timing and no police presence; their only issue was that they had kidnapped the wrong person. Mr Zucchini had no idea how close he came to being taken. If he had been, it may have started a turf war that would have ended many lives. Revenge is a word the Italians kill and die by.

The Van Dinos got out of their van to view their new delivery. As they approached the hooded man, they commented on how short he looked.

“He’s not the size I was expecting, I always thought Mr Zucchini was over six foot.” Said Dick. 

Benny replied, “I’ve seen some pictures of him, he looked huge.” 

Dick lent over and pulled the hood off of Barry’s head. At this point, Barry was shaking, he was crapping himself. He suddenly realised that if they thought he was the crime boss, he would be probably get shot. Then he realised that when they find out he’s the wrong man, they would kill him as he’s a witness. Sweat was pouring off his forehead as the two men looked confusingly at Barry. 

“Who the hell is this? Are you Mr Zucchini?”

Barry had to think fast, he said, “Who the hell am I! Who the hell are you? Do you know who I am? Right now, my crew will be looking for me. When they find me, you lot are screwed. “

Barry had taken a chance, he thought he was facing certain death, so thought he’d go out with a bang, and go on the attack.

The two Van Dinos family members were a little stunned by the nerve of this little man. They began asking questions, but Barry wouldn’t answer. They decided to take him into the house on the factory site and lock him in one of the bedrooms. They had a photo of Mr Zucchini and this was definitely not him. They wanted to talk to the big boss before making any final decision. As Barry was walked through the house, he could see it was rundown, and no one had lived there for a while. He smelt damp and there were a few pictures on the walls of the seaside and another of a family. Benny and Dick didn’t have permission just to kill anyone and before they killed Barry, they wanted to get the all-clear from their boss. Bureaucracy is in every industry, even a criminal enterprise one.

The men pushed him into the room, which had a bed and a wardrobe, but nothing else and told Barry to sit down and stay quiet, they locked the door. Barry could hear the men walking downstairs as the floorboards were creaking. Barry took a moment to look around and then got up to look out of the window. His bedroom overlooked the side passage, which was a concrete path and a wooden fence separating it from the factory area. He wondered whether he could jump but the fall would likely leave him with a sprain or a broken ankle. He turned around and opened up the wardrobe, it had a few old shirts and some coat hangers, unfortunately nothing helpful.

Barry could hear muffled tones from downstairs; it sounded like two people trying to have a conversation under water. He couldn’t hear what what being said but knew it was about whether he was going to live or die. A funny thing happens to a person when they are faced with death. You can either wait to die, or you can make a break for it. Do something completely out of character and give survival once last go. Barry wasn’t an athletic guy, but he wasn’t a dead guy either. He was still alive and had nothing to lose. 

Barry weighed up whether he could overpower the two men, or whether he could survive a drop down to a concrete path. He went to the window and as quietly as he could he opened the window. It was one of the old-fashioned types that pulled up, however this one was old and was very difficult to open. He took his time and inched it open. He then went over to the bed, and he had one of those life saving ideas. He slid the mattress off the bed and threw it out of the window onto the path. He then climbed out of the window and hung on to the window ledge and then dropped onto the mattress.

He landed and fell to his left, he checked himself quickly and he was fine, no breaks or sprains. Barry got up and ran, he didn’t know where he was going but ran until he got somewhere he could hide. His heart was racing and as he left the factory compound, he continued down a hill and rested in a farmer's barn. It was the first time Barry had run for years, and it was adrenaline alone that kept him going. By the time he was in the barn, he was breathing hard and was almost sick. The sweat was dripping from his head, and he had to calm down before he could check to see if he was being followed.

Eventually Barry composed himself, and couldn’t believe what had happened to him, he was on his way to work in his boring job, working for his dull wife and his loner of a son. The kidnappers had taken his mobile phone so he couldn’t call for help. He was all alone and checked outside but there was no one looking for him. Barry made a little area in the corner cosy and hidden so he could rest and decide his next move.

After all of that excitement, Barry fell asleep, until the beautiful bird song in the morning woke him. It must have been around five in the morning, and he decided to leave and get back home. The sun was rising over the hill like a wake-up call. He suddenly thought to himself, “I’ve got another chance, my family and colleagues have no idea where I am, or whether I’m dead or alive. I could start again.”

With that idea in his mind, he had an extra bounce in his step. He followed the country lane until he got to a junction with a main road. He decided to stick his thumb out and see if he could get a lift hitchhiking. After around twenty minutes a lorry pulled up and said he was heading to Folkestone, as he was picking up a load in France. Barry jumped in and told the driver that Folkestone was fine.

Off they went towards Kent. There wasn’t a great deal of conversation but Barry enjoyed the quiet time so he could think. He’d only been to Folkestone once before and didn’t really know what was there. He didn’t have any money and certainly didn’t have his passport. As they got closer the lorry driver told Barry that he was pulling over at the services to grab a drink and some food and he wouldn’t be taking him any further. Once they pulled up, they both got out and used the toilets and then Barry went back into the lorry park on his own. He hovered around looking for an opportunity, he was either going to jump into the back of a lorry or into the cab and hide in the sleeping compartment.

Barry had made up his mind, he was given this opportunity to start over, and he was going to do it. He also didn’t want to go home and risk the criminals finding him again and killing him to make sure he never spoke about them. He was also trying to keep his family safe, but that wasn’t his primary motivation. Barry had a shady history which his wife knew nothing about. When Barry, who was known as Bazza the Gear was nineteen he got two years in prison for being a getaway driver for some burglars. When he left school, he didn’t have any qualifications and a few of the lads down the pub began to get in a bit of bother. To begin with they would shoplift and then they upped their game to commercial burglaries. Some of the older lads in the pub gave them some tips for places they could rob. Bazza was always mad about cars and driving, so was asked to help the boys out. After several successful raids they were eventually got caught after they became overconfident. Barry and the lads got two years in HMP High Down.

When Barry was finally released, he left his hometown for a new start in Surrey. He did the right thing and knuckled down in a factory job where he worked on an assembly line. After a year he met his eventual wife, and had truly settled down, he then became a father, and his past life was a distant memory. He was deeply in love with his wife but over time they grew apart, however he did still love her. His son, Jason was a disappointment. He was a loner who never excelled at anything, Barry was just pleased he found a job. They never fell out, they just never really talked.

Barry used his wit to sneak into a cab, the driver was busy talking to another driver, so Barry lay down in the back in the man’s sleeping bag. It stunk but he had no choice, he just had to lay low until the were through the Channel Tunnel and he was in France. There was the odd moment Barry needed to sneeze, but fortunately he was able to resist. Once through to the next stop Barry got out to make his own way in France.

Barry didn’t speak the lingo but fortunately he found some work on a vineyard picking the grapes from the Chardonnay, he was able to stay there to make a little money and lay low. He bought a Citroen 2CV and travelled around France, Belgium, Netherlands, Spain and Portugal. Barry became a master of reintroducing himself and lived a life of freedom. The freedom was something he never thought he’d ever get back, he loved it. He completely reinvented himself, he had relationships, met new friends and took up sports like tennis and boules. He ate a Mediterranean diet and felt as fit as a twenty-year-old. He worked as a waiter, a barman, and on numerous occasions he worked on farms and vineyards. It was a world apart from the dreary life he once had, and all because he was kidnapped by a criminal gang that mistook him for a mafia boss. Life is funny sometimes!

Several years later, Barry was given an opportunity to go to the United States. He met a lovely older woman in Portugal; she was on a European tour after her husband died. The widow, Jean, invited Barry to join her in Nevada, and he jumped at the chance. He got on really well with Jean and had never been to the States before so thought, why not.

Jean had a lovely home, her husband had been an oil baron and had left Jean with more than a few quid, life was comfortable, but Barry just couldn’t fall in love with her. By now Barry was sixty-five, retirement age, but he didn’t want to do nothing. Whilst spending some time in Las Vegas with Jean he became incredibly familiar with the slot machines, so much so, he found himself with a little addiction problem. He kept it from Jean but had some nasty people chasing after him. This time he had earned the attention from the local mobsters, so before he had his fingers chopped off, he took the first job he could find, he was employed as an Elvis impersonator in a chapel at Planet Hollywood. It wasn’t too taxing, and he quite enjoyed joining two people in the happiest days of their lives.

Barry had changed his name so many times when travelling around Europe, and Jean knew him as Alan. Alan seemed a solid name, easy to remember and it suited him. He would marry around ten people a day, as it was Las Vegas the ceremonies only lasted around fifteen minutes. One day, a couple in their early forties came through the chapel door, it caused Barry to take a double take. He thought to himself,

“I know that man, oh my god, that’s my, is it? Bloody hell, that’s my SON!”

It had been over twenty-five years since he last set eyes on him, and his son, Doug must have thought that his dad was dead. Barry didn’t let on and composed himself, he did his job and married Doug and his beautiful bride. Barry was close to saying something but resisted. Barry was finally proud of his son, he looked happy, handsome and confident, it dawned on him that he’s missed so many years watching his son grow into this man.

Doug didn’t recognise the Elvis lookalike; he had absolutely no idea his own father was marrying them. Barry usually signed the marriage certificate with his adopted name, Alan Jones. However, this time just before he put pen to paper, he paused. He then signed it, Barry Burrows. He had left a breadcrumb and hopefully awaited to see if his son would notice.

Unfortunately, Barry wasn’t recognised nor was his signature, so continued his work for the rest of the day. At 6pm he completed his final wedding of the day; he went to his changing room and saw an envelope waiting on his bag. He thought it might be another demand for money, or maybe he was getting sacked, but no, it was an invite to a local restaurant at 8pm. It didn’t say who it was from, the mystery deepened, and Barry put on a nice shirt and his leather coat. He thought it might be his last night on the planet due to his debts, so took his rings and watch off so it wouldn’t be nabbed by a greedy coroner.

He pulled up outside of the restaurant, it was called Mon Ami Gabi, a lovely French restaurant. He was nervous, sweating a little, and his stomach was fluttering like a moth caught in a lamp shade. He looked though the window but didn’t recognise anyone, but it looked busy. He walked in and spoke to the maitre d’, the suave looking gentleman pointed him towards the corner of the restaurant. As he got closer, he could see a couple, the light was dimmed, but then he realised who it was, it was Doug and his beautiful wife, Tasha.

As Barry approached, his son stood up, Barry stopped, and they looked at each other. Doug had tears running down his face, he said,

“Dad? Is that really you? You’re supposed to be dead.”

Barry replied, “Hello son, it is me, I have a lot to tell you. I’m so sorry I didn’t get in touch, maybe you’ll understand when I explain.”

Doug took a step forward and held his arms out, Barry stepped forward and the two men hugged. A tear or two fell from Barry’s eyes and ran down his face. He held on to his son and didn’t want to let go. Tasha became emotional and began to cry whilst watching the strangest of reunions.

“Dad, please sit down, do you want a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please son, I think I need one. What wine have you got?

Tasha interjected, “it’s a Sauvignon Blanc, the table next to us ordered it, so we thought we’d copy.”

They sat and spoke for hours that night. It was the best wedding gift Doug could have received; he told his father about how he met Tasha; they laughed all evening. Barry opened up about his peculiar disappearance, and Doug could see why he decided on path he chose. Sometimes life offers a crossroads and during both their lives, Doug and Barry had decisions to make which takes more guts than just carrying on.

It would be a night they would never forget. Doug asked his father,

“Why don’t you come home to the UK? It would be so nice to have you back in my life.”

Barry paused and looked in deep thought, but he had already made his mind up.

He looked at his son and his new daughter in law and with a tear in his eye, he said, “Of course I will.”

The End.